


Mark of Fate

by RivalSilver



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff, bc most of my work is fluff lmao, revelation!au where corrin and silas werent childhood friends, soulmate!AU, w a lil backstory to silas ehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 20:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9785330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RivalSilver/pseuds/RivalSilver
Summary: soulmate!au in which your soulmate’s first words are engraved on to your wrist. revelation!au in which Silas and Corrin were never childhood friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for a close friend's birthday on tumblr!

    Ever since he was three years old, he always wondered why he had it. The marks that painted the membrane aligning his wrist were a mystery to him.

    It was like some sort of tattoo, permanent to the skin, yet beautiful. The marks were a light shade of blue, not light enough to contrast to his pale skin, but light enough to be like a cerulean blue, crossing his wrist. It was about the size of his index finger, if pressed horizontally against his wrist of his right hand. As a child, Silas did not know what exactly this meant, but every time he would ask his father, he would tell him to, “Forget about it.”

    Obtaining a soul mark was _not_ something everyone went through. People had their awaiting soulmate, and other people simply lived life without having one. Up until the last decade, soul marks were seen as a wonderful blessing – the light that given to someone’s fate, for they were destined to one day meet someone with a strong affinity. One that had keys to the other's locks.  When someone had a soul mark, it was immediately known that someday, they were to meet their special someone.

    As of the decade, soul marks had grown into something that people had come to fear of having. The kingdom of Nohr was strict on these matters, and the fact that they were now enemies with the neighboring kingdom of Hoshido – where the soul mark originated from many generations back – only made it worse for people bearing a mark. Soul marks were branded as a traitor’s sign, seen as Hoshidan propaganda, and considered a threat on Nohrian territory. King Garon had made sure that he had no subjects that were disloyal, and had ordered executions with anyone that did bear the mark without coming forward. Many came forward upon learning of the king’s threat, and only so many lives were spared, and now they lived to pay a debt that was unjust.

    Each year on a certain day, the annual mark hunt ensued, and it gave Nohrian soldiers from the castle the green light to raid people’s home and search their bodies for any marks. Any that were found would be taken away – and usually, the punishment was death for treason.

    Hiding the marks would have been okay, if it wasn’t for the fact that each mark was not just any mark – they were _words_.

    Soul marks were said to have changed during time. No matter how interpreted, the legend told of one who bared the mark, wrote out the first words spoken to them by their soulmate, and when both individuals met their significant other, no matter the situation, the place, or the time, they would _identify_. Words would be exchanged, and those words would unlock the chains that sealed behind their fate.

    Each time he stared at those three words embedded into his skin, the words of his soulmate, he’d feel curious at just _who_ it was. Slim fingers slowly traced along the words kissing his skin, pine green eyes scanning over the simple phrase over and over. Words like this were from kind people with a good heart, and he honestly hoped that the day he met his soulmate, that they were to live up to their kindness. A sigh escaped him soon afterwards. Being a knight within the kinship of Nohr, and bearing such an entity would have earned him automatic death, that is, if they had knowledge of his mark.

    Clenching his eyes shut, Silas inhaled sharply within his nostrils, slowly covering up his wrist with his black, leather glove, then picked up one of the armor plates next to him on the table. The candle nearby managed to illuminate just enough for the knight to find his way around his small cottage, provided to him by the king. It was thanks to his father who had sacrificed himself just to keep him alive – literally.

    All the more reason to continue; his death would not be in vain.

    The memory of his father stung, and it took Silas all of his might to keep himself perfectly still. He clutched at the breastplate in his hold. Head hanging, he allowed his last words to ring through his mind. His father’s death haunted him for years, and that had the knight true to his words.

 _One day, you will make a great knight, and I will be a proud father._            

    He knew that soulmates were a thing he was expected not to take part in, nor was he to even care about. He was barely in his early twenties, head knight of the soldiers, and heavily watched by King Garon due to his father’s ‘contract,’ so the idea of worrying over someone he didn’t even personally know sounded ridiculous. Each time he dared to let his mind wander on those words on his wrist, his father’s words echoed that were exchanged to the king.

_I die, and my son lives to serve you._

    What haunted Silas was the fact that his soul marks weren’t alien to him. They have been said before on certain occasions, usually when they were in battle, or concluding one. Yet, each time they were spoken to him, he could not help the way his body tensed up in anxiousness. Who was it? How would he know?

    Legend foretold that when the right person spoke, the bearer would know.

    Even if the words that he wore were said by different people before.

_Are you okay?_

* * *

    She always kept it hidden.

    Of course she would have words painting her wrist as well, as she had originated from Hoshido, though she had only recently learned this. Corrin had always thought that she was born and raised in Nohr, but that proved to be false the older she grew and the more she understood about her past – being kidnapped by King Garon himself. Being thankful for such a loyal butler, who had obtained her books on Hoshidan culture on the low, the young princess took it upon herself to study on her roots. Hoshidan culture amazed her; each page she flipped was filled with vast information on customs, food, and other principles, like her soul mark.

    She often wondered what it would have been like if she had stayed in Hoshido…

    Thoughts like these made her head shake as she sighed. That would have meant that she would have never come to Nohr, nor been able to be with her Nohrian family. She adored her four siblings very much, and a bit of her was happy she was kidnapped, for she was able to grow up with them in her life.

    Gazing out into the beautiful cherry blossom trees ahead, Corrin sat on a flat rock, legs pressed against her chest, and her chin resting on her knees. She had only recent united with her Hoshidan family, and felt so surreal to her. There were many things textbooks could not teach her, such as the royal family, nor how each person would react upon her return. Most were overall positive.

    Pulling down on her sleeve slightly, her red eyes glossed along her mark embedded into her wrist. She was honestly curious of who this person was. How was their personality? And what were their first words to each other? Two fingers traced over it slowly, humming to herself. She couldn’t wait to meet whoever this person was. Whoever they were, she pondered, was someone who was kind and had a big heart.

    The settling sun was shrinking within the horizon, with pinks and oranges painting the sky. Rarely, Corrin allowed herself to be lost in her own little world within her daydreams, in a world where there was no war, and she would face whoever this person was that she was destined to meet.

    Standing up from the rock, the princess dusted herself off, taking one last look at the beautiful scenery, the words ringing in her mind.

_My life is in your hands._

* * *

    The battle was the toughest one Corrin had faced in a _long_ time. Granted, this was nothing like practicing her swordsmanship with Xander, where all she had to do was worry about striking him. Here, there were _too_ many headed towards her at once, and adding on to that factor, was also the fact that she had to watch for their speed, the type of weapon they used, and their tactics. It was all so frustrating, it almost had Corrin swinging her sword in blindly and hoping to see what she was able to strike down.

    Jakob had been attacking enemies on her right, but it had come to the point where he had separated himself too far away from her. Kaze took the left, and Azura kept using her song to try and calm their enemy. The fact that she only had three people with her did not help her situation. After not having the heart to betray both families, she had decided instead, to end the war her own way. The downside was that only so little people had followed her. But she wasn’t worried much, as she knew that eventually, she would find a way to somehow unite both sides of the coin to assist in ending the war and keeping the peace with minimal casualties.

    Her big heart was a contributing factor towards not wanting to have anybody killed – not even their enemies. Even with having _both_ Hoshido and Nohr now targeting her as a traitor, there was no doubt that soldiers from both sides would hunt her down and try to kill her, yet she did not have the will to take any lives. She wanted minimal bloodshed.

    And here was their first battle, a mere two days after they had decided to separate from both armies to form their own. Corrin was not really surprised to find out that Nohr had sent a group of soldiers, led by their lead knight, as it was in Nohr’s nature to be aggressive and belligerent. Their leader, mounted on a horse, had not spoken a word, nor had he moved from his spot, all the way on the other side of the battlefield, allowing the swarm of soldiers to rush in and attack the small group of four.

    But each soldier that rushed her way was defeated – knocked out, of course. She would be sure to heal them later.

* * *

    Panting heavily, Corrin clenched her hold on the grip of her sword, red eyes burning along the remaining soldier that stood before her. The others were too far off behind her, eliminating the last of the soldiers. The closer Corrin got to him, the clearer his appearance was. With a sword in his possession and a blasé expression, his presence gave off a sense of superiority; one that was loyal to whoever gave him orders.

    He gripped his sword as well, and began to charge with his horse over to the intruder. The words that rang through his mind were crystal clear from the prince. He was to find Corrin, and bring her back to Nohr – alive. Silas could not kill her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have her companions killed, which had been the plan all along. Silas got a description of her, which he managed to seek within their party.

    Her mesmerizing red eyes were like rubies. When Silas managed to get close enough, more and more of her features began to become more noticeable. She had a sense of determination, one that screamed out that she in fact, did not want to hurt anyone, from what he had observed earlier. If it was true that she was in fact, trying to keep the peace like she had informed him and his army before the battle began, then he would have been feeling a generous amount of guilt for ignoring her and attacking. He had been informed that she had plans to take over both kingdoms, but was this really the case? He doubted it.

    No words were exchanged as the two crossed swords, and as they fought, Silas truly saw – she did not want to hurt him. Her swings were jagged, yet weak when impacted against his armor. It hurt, but not enough to _kill_ him. Silas attacked, blocked, and dodged. _Father would have wanted it like this_. Yes, he would not betray King Garon. He would do what a knight was supposed to do: follow orders.

    She was impressive. After many countless minutes of swords clashing, he felt one of her swings hit him against his chest. That blow told him two things: she was exhausted, and she wasn’t holding back – more like she was struggling to do so. Grunting, Silas felt his horse stand on its hind legs, and whine in surprise. The next powerful blow had the male falling back and off the horse, landing on the grass with a loud _thud!_

    Silas gazed at the sky, thinking about how he had failed orders, his father, and his kingdom. Cuts and scrapes here and there – all courtesy of _her_ – scattered all over his face and his tattered clothing where armor was not present. Silas knew that she didn’t want to kill him, but he somehow did not mind it if _she_ was the one to kill him right then and there. His ears heard what appeared to be a sword cling down, and soon, his vision was filled with silver.

    Corrin had ditched her sword, having fallen down to her knees next to the man. Silver locks scattered messily atop his chest and face, which she tried her best to push back, as her hands wrapped around his head to cradle him up on her lap. She felt a pang of guilt rush through her, and mentally prayed to the Gods, _please, don’t die_. She relaxed when he blinked, green eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

    Mindlessly, he muttered, “My life is in your hands,” as if giving her power to do as she pleased to him – a part of him thought she would kill him. There was nothing else he could’ve done.

    Something caught his eyes, and it had him struggle to sit up as she gasped. Her red eyes were wide, pupils dilated, one hand that held him now covering her mouth. In that moment, he felt a spark surge through him, unlike anything he had ever felt before in his life. This – being near her – felt so natural, as if he had known her all his life, and had been awaiting for their reunion.

    The person he was destined to meet – his soulmate – was _her_.

    “Y-you’re…” he stuttered, lips parted in awe. Swiftly, he pulled up his hand, ignoring the pain that stung through his body, and exposed his soul mark to her. “It’s you…”

    And all he thought, was that she was beautiful.

    Corrin mimicked his movements, and sure enough, his first words to her were etched into her stunning skin – in the same shade of cerulean that he had. Shock was all they both felt, merely trying to comprehend the fact that they had done it, they had found each other.

    Nothing else mattered as the two simply exchanged their names, tying their red knot of destiny together.

    “My name is Corrin…”

    “I am Silas.”

    And Silas did not have to think twice when she asked him to join her. She did not seem like she wanted to do any harm, only seeking peace for the lands.

    His father would have wanted this instead: honesty, within the honor of a knight, seeking peace within the world with the one he was fated to be with.


End file.
